hadriel_logs | Event Log: Memories Past

Event Log: Memories Past

Who: Everyone
What: Memory Share Event!
Where: All around the city
When: November 14th-20th
Warnings: Please remember to tag all warnings for memory shares!

Have you ever looked through someone else's eyes? Heard through their ears, spoken with their tongue? The gods have tried to teach some of you empathy, but it's time you learned the hard way, exactly what the others here have been through. For a week, every time you brush skin to skin with someone, you'll experience a memory of theirs: happy, sad, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it feels real to you.

The first touch may come as a surprise- it lasts only for a split second but may feel like an eternity, where you're trapped in someone else's memory. After that, it could be more expected, and some may even figure out how to control it and share specific scenes from their past with others. Or, you might wear gloves and long sleeve shirts for awhile, nobody's judging.

Maybe curtail the handholding for awhile- or go right ahead, if that's your thing. After all, you never really know somebody unless you've walked a mile in their shoes, right?

► This log covers November 14th-20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you die in a memory, you don't die in real life, but if you do die in real life please let us know here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

DiMA has been getting braver traveling between islands, at this point. He hasn't fallen out of the boat and shorted out and sunk to the bottom of the ocean yet, at least, even if he knows it may not be the safest thing in the world for him. But it does mean he can be found on any island.

In the shops, scavenging for scrap metal or the chance of something electronic he can repurpose for parts or a power source... though recently he finds himself lingering over clothing that he can't possibly wear, with all the components protruding from his form. Perhaps someone would be so kind as to assist him?

He lives in spire 1, and pops into the labs on occasion, though he's yet to be so bold as to ask them to work on him something for him when they seem so busy. In the evenings he frequents the speakeasy, but as he doesn't drink (anything) he's a bit of an odd sight just sitting there, visibly synthetic and only observing. The truth of it is he he's usually waiting for Nick, hoping his brother will spot him and come over.

He also takes long walks along the shoreline safely out of the water's reach, watching the sunrises and sets and wondering what the next world they go to will be. If he were human, it would be a perfectly normal thing, an old man going for a walk. As it is he might draw a few questioning gazes just for existing.

1. escaping the institute with nick and having to abandon him
2. an absurdly long chunk of time just hiding in a cave, marking the days on the wall
3. for something fluffy: meeting faraday and getting named
4. building the fog condensers for the island but the humans still hating him
5. killing and replacing captain avery of far harbor with a reprogrammed synth (cw: violence)
6. meeting nick again with the sole survivor

Pick a memory and I'll reply with it! I can be reached on plurk @

cuddlebug or on discord @ Ana#1461 for plotting/questions or something custom! ]

[Your choice!]

Let me assist you, Jill.

[ DiMA, oblivious to the current event, reaches to help the woman out of the boat when they reach the shore. He may be frail in some ways but he's still strong, and the waves are rough today, buffeting the little rowboat now tethered to its moor. She's been kind to him before, and though they only exchanged brief greetings on the ride, he doesn't want her to lose her balance and fall. But when his hand touches her arm, a single metal finger contacting the skin of her wrist, Hadriel fades away for a moment.

--

DiMA and a group of apparent humans are standing in front of a fog condenser, one of several built around the city of Far Harbor to protect it from the toxic, encroaching mist that threatens its inhabitants. Not just with its radioactivity but with the monstrous mutated creatures within. The machine has just been activated and is humming away, and even as they stand there the fog is dissipating into the turbines.

"It works! These are amazing, thank you DiMA." The woman sounds almost begrudging as she thanks him, but there's genuine gratitude there. They wouldn't have lasted long without his creation.

"My pleasure, ma'am. Acadia will maintain them for you, in exchange for supplies through your trade port." DiMA gestures a skeletal hand towards a man in a lab coat. "Should you notice anything awry, please contact myself or Faraday here."

"Captain, you're actually going through with this deal?" A gruff, scruffy man from the human contingent steps forward as he speaks -- he came to this meeting, clearly one meant to offer a gift, with weapons, a large gun brandished in his hand even now. "With these... things?"

"I'm a woman of my word, Allen. The synths have held up their end."

"What about the psycho cult?"

DiMA shakes his head, his voice even and calm. "The Children of Atom understand the situation. They should not bother you."

Allen waves his gun at the synths, clearly angry and distrusting. "We can't trust them, and we certainly can't trust you."

Some in the group now look uncomfortable, the contingent now known to be synths far more human looking than DiMA, and Faraday steps in front of him protectively. DiMA simply places his hand on the other synth's shoulder to hold him steady. Keep him calm.

"I promise you, you can. I am also a man of my word."

"You're no man." But Allen lowers the gun, instead spitting at Faraday's feet. "Freaks. Let's get out of here."

The humans turn to leave, and Faraday keeps watch as they go, still blocking DiMA like a nerdy guard dog. Soon it's just DiMA and his small group of synths. He sighs quietly.

"It's alright. They'll come to understand we are genuine in our intent."

"Will they, though?" Faraday finally looks back at DiMA, troubled. "They hate us for existing, not because we've done anything wrong. They're the monsters."

"I believe they will. Someday we will live in harmony -- they simply fear what they do not understand."

"You're too good, DiMA. If they don't destroy us, they'll destroy each other and we'll be caught in the crossfire."

"Have faith, Faraday."

"I only have faith in you."

"...let's go home." ]

Edited 2018-11-17 03:39 (UTC)

[Jill looked on, watching as the synths and humans exchanged words. Although the woman was reasonable, the man clearly harbored hatred toward DiMA and his kind, even after, what appeared to be, a charitable gesture. Jill didn't know anything about this world, but she could tell that DiMA's invention would help the people maintain their safety; despite all that, they still hated him.

When the vision ended, Jill stumbled forward, taking a step out of the boat. Her head was swimming, even though she was on land again.]

[ DiMA catches Jill and steadies her easily, and they're lucky that apparently one touch equals one vision. Since he hasn't let go yet, she doesn't get another one. She seemed to be staring at nothing for a moment, though, and now seems disoriented and unsteady. He frowns slightly, worried. ]

Are you alright?

[Jill appreciates that DiMA ensures she doesn't fall and hurt herself.]

Yes, I think so. It's like... I don't know. I saw a vision or something. You were in it, along with some other people who looked like sailors or something.

[ Interesting. DiMA looks confused for a moment at how that could be, but he thinks he knows what Jill is referring to. Of course, it could have been one of hundreds of memories of those people. Most of them not wonderful. ]

...that must have been on the Island. There's a town there inhabited by sailors called Far Harbor. May I ask what exactly you saw?

[Mariane has never seen such an entity before. perhaps that's how she can be excused for reaching out to touch him.

and what she sees when she touches him is astonishing. killing someone so he can be replaced with--what exactly? she's still terribly new and uncomfortable with the technology that can be found here, but she can't help but question why the human was being replaced with a thinking machine. she has a world of questions to ask, if he lets her ask them]

With the upcoming move, a few Guard members in less than stellar shape, and a couple of choice arrivals this month, Nick has been here and there more than usual. His patrols have been more frequent, winding along whatever island he happens to be on, occasionally in the company of another Guardsman; his hours have been longer, with the last couple of nights spent at the Guard HQ. He doesn't need to eat, doesn't need to sleep -- it helps get work done, especially when he's the one responsible for the organization now. He's supposed to be a leader and keep it together, no matter how out of place he feels being put in a position like that.

The real Valentine would've done it, he's told himself a time or two, so why does it make him feel so uneasy?

When Nick finally does decide to go through the trouble of rowing all the way to the Southern Island with a rusty hand, he's a bit surprised to see DiMA there. It's not the first time he's seen DiMA around the Speakeasy, though he can't think of any reason the old bot would frequent the place... other than the obvious one.

He rubs the back of his neck as he beelines for his brother. "I've gotta admit that I didn't take you for much of a barfly."

Things are busy for his brother, DiMA knows. But they aren't for him, as much -- he's gone to the Guard HQ several times and always been told he missed the other synth, so it simply seems more reliable to wait at the Speakeasy in the evenings, hoping Nick will return home. It's less travel from island to island as well. During the day DiMA returns to west most of the time, helping Starscream and Sal and visiting the labs, but at night he is here. Waiting patiently, for as long as it will take.

The night that Nick does return home, he looks surprised to see DiMA. The old synth only offers his brother a smile, glad he's coming over.

"I make a poor one, it's true. What with the not drinking at all, but no one has asked me to leave so far. How are you, Nick?"

Busy. Tired. As worn out as a machine can be.

"I'm just trying to get my ducks in a row before the city moves," is the answer he goes with. There's a pause that follows, the kind indicative of a fella who doesn't know how to talk to the family he didn't realize he actually had. It's not that he doesn't want to, but where to even begin? He's clearly the same Nick DiMA knows, and at the same time, not the same one by virtue of the experiences he's had in Hadriel. Where does one end and the other begin?

Boy, isn't that a question he's asked himself plenty of times. He readjusts his hand on his cane, finally sliding into the seat across from DiMA. No time like the present to have a real conversation, one not about demons or interrupted by a cat.

"I heard you met Rey."

Good start.

If anyone would understand being shaped by your experiences, it's DiMA. Not only was he aware of it being a thing from the moment he was built, he shapes himself though the offloads. Tries to make himself his best self. But he doesn't know if Nick would understand, just as he doesn't know if he understands his brother's position.

"I know what it's like, to have a group relying on you." This seems a safer tack -- comparing the City Guard to Acadia, to an extent. His actions with it to protect the Island, just as Nick aims to protect Hadriel. "Perhaps we have something in common besides our origin after all."

Another smile, that holds when Nick mentions Rey.

"I did. She seemed... surprised by me."

DiMA might make a fair leader for his group, but it's a position Nick isn't comfortable with. In all fairness, he's filing some pretty big shoes. He sticks to the more comfortable topic.

"I told her you were here," he remarks, setting his cane aside. "Called her while she was out at sea."

That's just how important it was. She's the only one who understands even half of what DiMA's presence in town means for Nick, and as such, is someone whose opinion he trusts, particularly when it comes to whether or not this estranged brother of his is worth getting to know. He still doesn't know entirely what's true and what isn't regarding them, and the thought of a future he hasn't lived yet -- especially if it ends up the way Danse described it -- makes him uneasy.

It's a more comfortable topic for Nick, sure, but certainly not for DiMA. He isn't certain how to navigate the matter of his brother's existing family, his own seeming irrelevance in the face of those relationships. This is perhaps the first time Nick has heard him sound at all awkward.

"Surprised that I was in the Speakeasy, I mean. She knew who I was, of course."

"Hm. Right."

Another gap, one quiet enough that Nick can hear the gears turning between the two of them; his processor whirrs, louder in his ears than in reality.

"She's been here as long as I have, and done a lot for me. Hope her first impression wasn't, erm. Too rough."

He says that because he knows she can be... a character.

"Rough? A bit, perhaps, but not too much. I would describe her as brusque. She clearly cares for you a great deal."

Which is all he could ask for of someone that Nick deemed important to him, honestly.

"She mentioned something, actually, that brings me here. Your memory of me -- the one she gained access to? I thought perhaps I could show you what actually happened, not what your fears twisted the fragment into. Without the necessities of technology. I believe I've mastered this 'god trick' as they're calling it, with a friend of mine."

Nick cocks his head to one side, his brow knitting. He was wondering what that transmission from Dr. Rosen was all about, but hadn't had time to go digging, assuming maybe he wasn't affected. It wouldn't be the first time one of their events passed him by.

"What are they up to now?"

"Ah. You don't know? I suppose I discovered it accidentally -- it's not as if we touch people often. But on contact with someone else, a memory is transferred. Complete and whole. I saw and felt what my friend did, and he experienced the same in my memory. It was random, but then we found that if we concentrated on what we wanted the other to see, in my case as if I were selecting data to offload, that was what we shared."

He watches Nick closely, to see how he reacts to that. If he's even a little curious.

"It is far simpler than messing with wires and cables."

DiMA | OTA

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i have 4 ready to go!

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Speakeasy LET'S DO THIS

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Shoreline

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